


Murder at the Hazbin Hotel

by MonochromeFalcon



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Blood and Injury, But I don’t want to come up with a new plot, Digital Art, How Do I Tag, I just want be become a better writer, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, This is a written companion to my comic of the same name, Unimpressed bird doctor, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonochromeFalcon/pseuds/MonochromeFalcon
Summary: Charlie and friends stumble upon a gravely injured Angel one dark night on the steps of the hotel. Unable to do anything to help their dying friend they are forced to turn to the only person with the power and resources to stave off disaster...the infamous Radio Demon himself...Powerless to help directly, Alastor calls upon an old friend to lend a hand.———A written companion to my webcomic of the same name. Basically just a deeper dive into the story page by page. Each chapter will focus on a single page of the comic to offer all the juicy details you can’t quite get from images alone.This story will feature art
Relationships: Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was started very self-indulgently and is actually self insert but more for lazy and pragmatic reasons. It has now sort of grown into something bigger then I ever imagined so in an effort to ride the coattails of my own marginal success and to make up for my lack of story telling experience I’ve decided to make this as multi-media as possible. 
> 
> FYI: this will be updated less frequently then the actual comic, since obviously I have to wait to finish the art before I can write or post this so if you want quicker updates or just to hang out or see additional content check out this stories  
> Tumblr: @unimpressed-bird-doctor  
> Or my Instagram: @monochromefalcon

It was a calm, quiet night...as calm and quiet as you get in hell anyway. The streets in front of the hotel were deserted, the air silent. Not even a breeze disturbed the stillness. 

It made the sudden appearance of a tall figure almost jarring, had anyone been around to witness its arrival. They made their way to the stain glass doors purposefully, unambiguous about its destination. 

Despite the quick, unquestioning approach the figures mind was hesitant. Something didn’t _feel_...like it should. Not wrong, per say, just not how she’d expected things to feel. If she hadn’t received the message personally she would have almost assumed this was some kind of set up. 

It still _could_ be, she supposed as she eyed the beautiful artistry of the Apple themed entryway. Perhaps she was being _too_ trusting. 

But the timing made no sense for that. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything to prompt such a betrayal, they hadn’t even _seen_ each other in over a decade. 

At the end of the day, though...it was a moot point. She was here, trap or not, and she wasn’t the type to stop once she started. The last few decades had proven that clearly enough. 

So, without any hesitation she stepped up and knocked loudly on the wooden frame of the door. The sound split the night like a knife, and before she even had the time to pull her hand away the click of a lock sounded. 

The door creeked open slowly before being all but thrown wide, revealing a young woman in quite a state…

———-

Charlie nearly jumped out of her skin at the knock. It wasn’t that she’d been waiting by the door, not consciously anyway. She’d just needed...a moment. A moment away from the smell and the sight and the sounds that seemed to coat the small enclave before the bar of her hotel like oil on a golf coast seagull. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d started this hotel to make things _better._ To show the world, her father...herself...that better was possible. 

Finding her friend and patron bloody and gasping on her front steps had never been part of that plan. But part of her couldn’t help but see the inevitability of it all now. After all, she was a serial failure. It was only a matter of time before the universe stopped playing nice about her clear denial. It was only a matter of time until she fucked up bad enough to get some-

She shook her head, unlocking the door with a new intensity. He wasn’t going to die. This...persons...this _friend_ of Alastor’s was going to…

Fuck.

Part of her wanted to laugh when he’d brought it up because the very _idea_ of someone who could heal their friend even existing in hell was sort of laughable. It wasn’t really how demonic powers _worked_ after all. Even alastor didn’t seem to have that specific skill. She’d asked. 

_“Cant you-“ she’d gasped as she cradled the spider demon in her arms. Alastor, that sickly sweet smile stretched across his face, had hummed almost tauntingly as he shook his head._

_“So sorry, darling. I’m afraid I’m much more adept at causing such damage.”_

_“Did you?”_ _Vaggie had snapped, all but taking his comment as a confession. “Did you do this?!”_

_His laugh was light and gleeful...but the edges of his smile and the shine in his eyes were harsh. Even in her furious state the moth demon took the threat to heart._

_“Now, that’s not very nice.” He said, inspecting his gloved hand flippantly before adding “and just when I was going to offer my assistance…”_

_“But you said-“_

_“That_ I _could help, yes I know. I_ said _it after all. And_ I _can’t...but I know someone who can. An old...friend of mine who’s quite skilled in this area.”_

_“Can’t we just...take him to a hospital or something?” Vaggie pleaded. It broke Charlie’s heart to see her girlfriend; beautiful, strong, unbreakable Vaggie...practically beg for any other solution._

_She would have given everything for there to be one._

_“Be reasonable, dear.” Alastor’s patronizing tone did nothing to smooth the situation. “If there_ were _hospitals in hell...would you really want to go?”_

In the end they’d conceded that there wasn’t another option and he’d wandered away to ‘make the call’ and that had been that. 

It must have been less than 15 minutes later that the knock had happened. 

As far as response time goes...you can’t get service like that _anywhere_ in pentagram city in _any_ industry…

She was already pulling the door open before the thought even occurred to her that this might _not_ be the mysterious ‘friend’ of the radio demon. 

That she might be opening the door to the very people who attacked Angel, back to finish the job.

One glance sent a cascade of relief down her spine as she quickly pulled the entrance open and allowed the low light from inside to illuminate the dark evening beyond.

“Oh thank god…” she half breathed when she wasn’t met with guns or knives or 7 foot thugs with bats. The light fell on only a single person, a tall, serious looking woman with long blonde hair and a general air of uninterested indifference. 

In other words something Charlie couldn’t help but call ‘maternal’ given her personal experience.

This _had_ to be their savior. There was no other reason someone like this would have found their way here...at all probably...much less in the middle of the night. So she did the only thing she could…

“Please...come in!”

She invited her inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Page 2
> 
> These are going to very drastically in length FYI but for the most part are going to be fairly short...
> 
> Tumblr- Unimpressed-bird-doctor   
> Instagram- MonochromeFalcon

  
She had been right. Something was  _ very _ off. 

The disheveled appearance of the woman who answered the door didn’t shock her nearly as much as her very  _ existence _ . 

Where the fuck was Alastor. 

She, of course, knew who the shorter woman was. You don’t spend as long as she had living in hell without being at least  _ aware  _ of the royal family and it’s members. But that didn’t help answer any of her questions. 

So, without a word, she followed the princess inside. The very first thing she noticed was the potent, coppery smell of blood permeating the air. Whoever it belonged to was obviously in some serious trouble. 

_ Where the fuck was that damn radio demon… _

——

Charlie led their guest towards where they had placed Angel, stealing short glances every so often.

Now what the initial relief of her not being here to murder anyone was ebbing away she started to realize just how...not what she had expected...this woman was. 

Not that she’d had much time to develop much in the way of expectations about her  _ specifically. _

But she’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about her in the abstract. What sort of person Alastor considered good company. What a friend of the radio demon would  _ be  _ like. 

Not this, that’s for sure. 

For one...she was a woman. Al didn’t come off as particularly anti-female but he did have a tendency to be...old timey sexist. The idea he would find comradery in a feminine presence just seemed odd to her.

Then again there was a very distinct possibility he only acted that way to ruffle Vaggie’s feathers. He was an insufferable dick like that. 

Second, she was very obviously  _ not smiling _ . In fact nothing about her gave off the kind of jovial air Alastor prized so much. She looked more like the headmistress of a girl’s catholic school.

Finally...she was almost  _ angelic.  _ Not in the ‘pure, breathtakingly beautiful’ way people often mean when they say that. In the actual...literal sense that she looked like an angel. 

Like with wings and stuff.

It just seemed like something that would clash with his whole aesthetic. 

Alastor had  _ called  _ her his friend...and she had come so quickly...but still…

——

As they approached the end of the entrance Charlie finally spoke up again. 

“He’s- he’s in here” she said, voice cracking slightly. The stranger felt herself tense at the words. Alastor hadn’t given any details outside of location when he’d contacted her. “We didn’t know-“

Her heart went out to the poor girl. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically, covered in blood and tears. The taller woman knew she was being rude, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care just yet. Something about this whole situation told her she’d need all the energy she could muster for whatever awaited her.

“If you need him moved we-“ Charlie tried again as they rounded the final corner. “Just let us know.”

Whatever she’d expected to find when entering that room...this was  _ not _ it. Her reply died in her throat as she took in the scene before her, manifested into the angry sound of air being forced through clenched teeth. 

Sometimes she just really fucking hated people.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: unimpressed-bird-doctor  
> Instagram: MonochromeFalcon

  
The room was dark, the only light seemed to come from the ambiance itself...just light enough to cast dramatic shadows over the figures standing vigil. 

Turns out the very air in hell is dramatic as fuck. 

The focal point of the scene was a long, still frame draped tragically attop a white covered table in the center of the room. His head was turned away but the faint rise and fall of his puffy chest told her he was still clinging to life. His two sets of arms lay naturally splayed at his side.

The only evidence of any manipulation was the careful placement of one arm over his abdomen to keep what looked like a hastily repurposed swath of cloth turned bandage in place over what must have been a fairly serious wound. 

The severity of the situation was made infinitely more clear by the blood soaked tablecloth he was laying on. So saturated was the fabric that it had begun to run over the edge of the table to collect in a pool on the floor. 

It took her a moment to collect herself. 

It wasn’t the gore or general horror of the situation before her that forced her to take a moment. This was hell. You don’t get to be squeamish in hell. It was the obvious lack of basic first aid knowledge shown by the 4 people standing around looking generally distressed but otherwise completely useless. 

Two women stood around the patient, the shorter of whom appeared to be in a similar emotional state to her royal highness. Tears streamed down her face from her single large eye, her charming 50’s style outfit wrinkled and smudged with transfer. 

Realistically she was probably too short to have been much help.

The second woman was taller, with impressive silvery gray hair and a sharp, straight nose. She appeared the most emotionally intact of the group, gazing down at the injured man with a look of tired but reserved sadness. 

Behind her, a bottle clutched in his hand, a cat demon sat behind the bar. His back was to then and his hat was pulled down low, clearly unable to handle the situation in any real way except to drown it out with an alcohol induced lack of object permanence.

It didn't seem to be working very well, judging by the tension in his shoulders and the general stillness of his frame.

In her rational brain she knew she was being unfair. There was absolutely no reason to believe anyone of these 3 people would know the first thing about bandaging up a paper cut, much less a serious abdominal injury. Even the princess probably didn’t have much in the way of medical education. 

Lucifer didn’t really seem like the sort to prioritize stuff like that. 

No, in reality the bulk of her misgivings where directed towards the final figure in the room, a person, to be far, who was  _ usually  _ the cause of any negative or dramatic feeling in her afterlife. 

Alastor leaned against the wall, draped in enough shadow to be almost invisible. The dramatic fuck. His face was completely shrouded in darkness but she didn’t need to see it to know that ever persistent smile was probably plastered across his dumb, smug face. 

At first glance he looked almost relaxed, one arm behind his back as he appeared to absentmindedly check the time on a delicate silver pocket watch. 

But there were things you pick up on, after knowing someone for as long as they had known each other...especially when there was once a time your very survival had hinged upon correctly interpreting the nonverbal whims of men...that told a very contradictory story.

Still, she couldn’t help but glower at him as the now familiar whirlwind of emotions his very presence never failed to kick up began in her chest. 

Long relationships between devastatingly imperfect people tended to be messy and this was no exception. 

At the moment the winning sentiment in her was annoyance, which was also fairly common. He annoyed the shit out of her, both consciously and just by existing. 

The bastard had been a  _ hunter _ for fucks sake. He knew how to put pressure on a wound, how to clean and dress an injury. He wasn’t a medic by any stretch of the imagination, and it probably wouldn’t have helped but  _ still. _ ..


End file.
